


The King Is Going To Kill Me

by CrossedQuills



Series: Back In The Day... [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Eventual Sex, M/M, Sexual Inexperience, rated for later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2018-12-18 07:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11869374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossedQuills/pseuds/CrossedQuills
Summary: Kings Tale timelineAfter an unexpected incident with a malboro, Clarus is turned into a toad. Since the group is fresh out of maidens kiss, Cid jokingly suggests that Regis kiss Clarus to turn him back. Shockingly, it works. Later when they're joking about it Clarus finds out just how inexperienced their prince is, and is even more surprised when Regis asks him to teach him.First chapter is SFW, but probably wont stay that way for long.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Collaboration with Goldslactuar again. This may become a comic too, like Out Of The Fray. Maybe.

_Well, isn’t this just the biggest bitch ever_? Clarus groaned internally, unable to speak as the rancid fog of malboro breath blew away with the breeze. As it dissipated, all that was left where the once proud royal shield was stood was a very buff, very pissed off looking toad. 

Before leaving Insomnia, King Mors had entrusted Clarus with protecting Prince Regis in their travels through Lucis. “You’ve trained him well,” King Mors had said, “but he’s still naïve about the world and needs protection and guidance. I trust you won’t let anything happen to him, Clarus.” And, being a good shield, he’d done just that and knocked Regis out of the way just as the malboro vomited up the noxious fumes.

Of course, it wasn’t until he was three inches tall did Clarus remember that Regis was wearing the only ribbon amongst their group. It would have prevented such a status ailment, even if the bad breath attack hit Regis square in the face. He blinked his bulbous eyes in irritation.

“Oh…havens preserve us.” He looked up and saw Weskham standing over him. The steward bent down and picked him up, holding him in the palms of his hands. “Clarus?”

_Croak._

Much to Clarus’ chagrin, Cid appeared next to the taller man and looked down at the toad in his hands before bursting out in laughter. Weskham’s expression didn’t change as Cid clutched his sides and continued to chortle. “Clar? *snort* Six have mercy. I would know that glare in any form. How’s the weather down there?”

_Cid, I swear to the Astrals, I am going to shove that spear so far up your-_

“Where’s Clarus?” came Prince Regis’ concerned voice behind him. Clarus ambled his whole body around in Weskham’s hands, (since apparently toads don’t have any fucking necks to turn) and looked up at his ward. “Is he alright?”

Weskham sighed. “He doesn’t appear to be injured, if that’s what you mean.”

“Might have some warts though.” Cid stifled another chuckle and wiped the tears out of his eyes.

The steward scoffed at the mechanic, a vein prominent in his temple. “I don’t know why you’re laughing so hard, Sophiar. The strongest member of our team is out of commission and we are out of maidens kiss, if you recall. It’s nearly dark and unless you feel like taking on some iron giants by yourself I suggest you shut your screaming howler.”

“Tch,” Cid scoffed, despite the concerned look the Prince was giving them both. “Well, why doesn’t his highness just lay a smooch on precious little Clar-Bear. He’s as good as any maiden for a hundred miles around anyway.” The toad shot a withering glare at the mechanic. He abhorred that nickname and he didn’t take kindly to some grease monkey insulting his Prince… Only Clarus was allowed to do that.

“Would it work?” Regis asked. The three of them looked at him in surprise. The prince was blushing deeply, but the determined look on his face didn’t waiver. “Would it make him human again?”

Weskham’s shoulders slumped as Cid stifled another chuckle. “Well,” the steward said, “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“Pucker up, Sweeth-” Cid was finally silenced by a sharp elbow in the ribs, courtesy of Weskham.

The steward handed Clarus off to Regis, who held him up to his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry,” he said before leaning in.

Unexpectedly, there was a poof of smoke and light, causing everyone to close their eyes for an instant. When the smoke cleared Clarus stood, in human form, with his jaw in Regis’ hands and his lips still connected to his prince. Regis pulled away in surprise almost immediately, his blush deepening. Thankfully Clarus was quite tan, or the others might have noticed his face getting hot too.  They stayed like that for a few long seconds until Weskham cleared his throat. Clarus stood up to full height, letting Regis’ fingers slide away from the stubble of his beard.

“Well, I never thought I’d say this, Cid, but that was a good idea,” said Weskham, looking over his shoulder to their companion.

Cid, still clutching his ribs, just gave a weak thumbs up.

 

The next day, after returning to town and collecting their bounty, Clarus and Regis sparred at the haven while Weskham went to restock on curatives and Cid went shopping for Regalia parts. Clarus swung his sword at Regis, who dodged it, but barely. “You _need_ to be quicker on your feet. I know it’s my job to be your shield, but you really should to learn to dodge on your own. I can better protect you that way.”

Regis warped away from another slash of the sword, leaving a faint blue afterimage as he did. “I knew that malboro attack wouldn’t affect me. Not with the ribbon.”

“You can _not_ rely on your accessories like that,” he slashed again. Regis blocked with his sword and counter attacked, knocking Clarus back a step. “If it gets damaged or an imp steals it mid-battle you would need to dodge. If you rely on something like that so heavily it will be your downfall.” He thrust his sword forward, Regis warped again, but Clarus had been reading his moves. Turning on his heel he brought his shield up and caught Regis by surprise, knocking him on his ass as his sword clattered across the stone haven.

Regis looked up to Clarus’ sword, held just below his chin. “I think that’s enough swordplay for one day,” said the prince, pushing the gargantuan blade to the side and standing up. “Maybe some hand to hand combat?”

Clarus banished his blade and got into fighting stance. “Works for me.”

They sparred intensely for several minutes as the sun rose high in the sky. Despite how cool it had been all morning, it was warming up quickly. Clarus tossed his vest to the side, showing off the tattoos on his shoulders. Regis stripped down to his white undershirt. They fought in silence for quite a while. Clarus had skill and strength, but Regis had warping and speed as an advantage. Clarus was almost impressed that Regis seemed to take his training to heart and dodge his blows until he got one good leg sweep in and his prince was on his ass again.

Sprawling back onto the cool stone in defeat, Regis looked up at the passing clouds. “I think that’s quite enough.”

Clarus got a bottle of water from the cooler and brought it to the prince before sitting down next to him. “You’ve earned a break. You’re improving. Next time we encounter a malboro try and apply all this. Deal? I’d rather not need another maidens kiss any time soon.”

Regis sat up and almost looked hurt. “Was I _that_ bad?”

Clarus stopped mid-sip of his water. “What? No, I meant the curative. The kiss was… well I mean I’ve had better, but I meant I’d rather not be a toad…again.” His words died on his lips when the prince’s expression suddenly sank. “Reggie are you… are you embarrassed that you’re an inexperienced kisser, or the fact that whatever curative magic was involved actually considered you a maiden?”

Regis sighed and rested his arms on his bend knees. “Both, I guess.” There was an exceptionally long period of awkward silence between the two. Clarus was thinking of what to say to reassure his ward when Regis turned to him and asked, “Could you teach me?”

Choking on the water he was drinking, Clarus took a moment to gather himself before turning to his prince. “Say again?”

“Could you teach me how to kiss? Properly I mean.” Regis face couldn’t possibly get any redder, but the longer Clarus took to answer the more anxiety began to slip into the prince’s expression. “Actually, n-nevermind. Forget I said anything.”

“Reg…I’m flattered, but, I mean…didn’t you have retainers growing up? I mean you’re twenty years old. You can’t seriously tell me you haven’t…” Regis shot him a serious look. “You _haven’t_. Why?”

Regis shook his head. “I don’t know those women and I don’t trust them. Most of them came at the behest of my father and that’s just…well… it’s disquieting when your own father is trying to get you laid because it will ‘make me more of a man’.” Regis spat out the words with venom.

“King Mors didn’t really say that, did he?”

The prince sighed and leaned his head on one hand. “He was well into his cups one night when I confronted him about it, but, yes he did.”

“Well, this may be a bit treasonous to say, but your father can be a bit of a narrow-minded asshole at times.” Clarus made sure nobody was in earshot when he said it. Just in case.

Regis let out a weak chuckle. “I suppose he is.”

“He’s wrong too, you know. Getting laid does _not_ make you more of a man. It’s not even part of it.” Clarus sighed. “But if it makes you feel better and boosts your confidence, then I suppose I can teach you.”

Green eyes beamed at him. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to…”

 _I’m probably going to need a few drinks in me though,_ Clarus thought to himself. _Six I just agreed to make out with the future King of Lucis. Mors is going to have my head._ He cleared his throat. “No, it’s no problem at all,” he lied. “Just say you want to head to bed early tonight and I will too. Don’t need Cid and his big mouth knowing what’s going on.”

 

The Astrals must have had one hell of a sense of humor.

The townsfolk were so pleased with the four of them for getting rid of the malboro that they sent a crate of local food and a few bottles of their specially distilled spirits. However, they sent it to the haven with Cid, who already looked like he was a few shots in when he arrived back at the haven. “Evenin’ folks,” He said, depositing the crate on the glowing stone.

Weskham looked up from his notepad, irritated. “It’s nearly dark, Sophiar. I almost came looking for you.”

Cid shrugged indifferently. “Well I’m here, ain’t I? I even brought some of them fancy snacks you like.” He pulled a green bottle out of the crate and a few metal cups from their gear before pouring four glasses of the emerald colored liquid. He handed one to Weskham, who didn’t look up from his writing. “Want a nip?”

Weskham shook his head. “Not at the moment.”

“What’cha writing? Love letter?”

“Actually, I’m writing a correspondence to the office aid of Altissian affairs.”

Cid smirked. “So, it _is_ a love letter then.” Weskham didn’t dignify the mechanic with an answer. Cid just chuckled, poured Weskham’s share into his own cup, and went over to where the other two were near the fire. He held both of their mugs out in one hand. “Courtesy of the locals.”

Clarus and Regis both took their cups, still making small talk. Cid sat down to one side of the fire and took out the blade he’d been working on that looked more engine than sword when Clarus got around to taking a sip. He coughed and sputtered when it hit his tongue. “Six, Cid. What the hell is this stuff? It tastes like gasoline.”

Regis looked into his cup hesitantly and took a whiff of it. He wrinkled his nose.

Cid sipped his own as if it were nothing more than tea. “It’s cactuar juice.”

Clarus looked from his cup to the mechanic and back again. “Cid, this stuff is illegal.”

“Not in Insomnia, it’s not.”

“Yes, but we’re not in Insomnia. Where did you get it?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Cid smirked. “Why? You going to arrest them for having a distiller in their basement? This here is a time of war. People need to make money when and where they can.”

Regis hazarded a sip, wincing. “Uh, it does taste like gasoline.”

“Ya get used to it.”

The prince looked down at the green liquid in his glass for a moment before tipping the cup back and downing its contents, much to the shock and surprise of his shield. Grimacing, he swallowed it and for a moment looked like he was fighting his body’s urge to bring it back up. Soon enough though his color returned to normal and even had a little flush to it. “Whoa… this stuff works fast.”

Cid chuckled and nodded. “The first time, yeah. I made the mistake of drinking a half bottle my first time.” He whistled. “Next mornin’ I woke up naked in a field. Must be what werewolves must feel like the morning after a full moon.”

Regis chuckled and held his cup out. “Mind if I have just a little more?”

Clarus held a hand out and covered the prince’s cup as Cid was fixing to pour another. “I think one is enough for the first time.”

Both Cid and Regis pouted. The prince set his cup aside and leaned back into his chair. “That’s probably for the best. I’m going to call it a night early anyway.” He shot a meaningful look at his shield, who suddenly remembered their discussion earlier and swallowed hard. “Goodnight you two. Night, Weskham,” he called to the far end of the haven. Weskham only raised a hand in acknowledgement before going back to his correspondence.

Regis hadn’t even zipped up the tent before Clarus was downing his drink as well. Cid raised an eyebrow as Clarus held out his cup again. “Give me one more.”

“I thought one was enough for the first time?”

“Yeah, but I’m double his size.”

Cid chuckled and poured another shot.

 

Regis had almost fallen asleep, content in the swimming feeling the shot left him with, when Clarus came into the tent. He rolled over and propped himself on his elbows as the larger man slipped into the darkness next to him. His heart had been hammering in his chest ever since he heard the footsteps approach the tent. There was no way Clarus could have known how big of a crush he had on him. Nobody knew that the Prince of Insomnia desired men as much as he did women, despite not having experience with either.

“Hey,” whispered Clarus, kneeling down next to his ward’s bedroll.

“Hey,” Regis whispered back. They looked at each other in silence for a while. Regis swallowed hard. “How do we do this?”

It was difficult to read Clarus’ expression in the dark tent, but he imagined the larger man was at a loss as well. Clarus had taught him many things, but never anything like this. “Well, sit up for one.” He did, positioning himself on his knees so his face was more level with his shield. “I’m going to be honest,” Clarus said quietly, “I’m not exactly sure how to start teaching this sort of thing. So, why don’t you just start and I’ll show you improvements as we go. Good?”

“Alright.” Regis licked his lips nervously. This was almost easier when Clarus was a toad. At least those gorgeous amber eyes weren’t looking at him when it happened. Closing his eyes, Regis leaned in, mouth puckered, and bumped noses with his shield.

“Ouch.” Clarus rubbed the bridge of his nose and chuckled. “Okay, maybe I should be the one to start. Would that be better?”

Regis just nodded and blushed at his bumbled first attempt. Gods this was embarrassing. “I suppose…”

Suddenly, there were calloused fingers against the line of his jaw and lips pressed to his own. Yesterday was only for an instant so he didn’t have time to appreciate it before pulling away. Now, however, Clarus was holding still against him. Even pressure, leaning in slightly, head tilted to one side so their noses didn’t bump. Just as the warmth from the kiss began to creep its way through Regis’ bloodstream it ended.

Clarus sat back on his haunches and smiled nervously. It was adorable seeing is normally stoic shield thrown off balance. He wasn’t sure if it was the liquor or the fact that his crush had just kissed him, but Regis’ heart was pounding. He wanted more.

“See? Not so bad once you relax and mmmf!” His words were cut off as Regis leaned in and kissed him again. This time paying attention to where he put his nose and how hard he pushed. In the morning he could blame the alcohol, but right now he wanted this. He ventured opening his mouth slightly, like he’d seen in cinema, and taking hold of Clarus’ lower lip before continuing. Much to his surprise and pleasure, Clarus let out a light hum of a moan.

Immediately following the sound, Clarus pulled away wide eyed. For a moment Regis thought his shield would be mad at him being so forward, but soon the look of surprise curled into a tipsy smile. “You learn quick.”

The anxiety slipped by the wayside at the comment. “I have a good teacher.” A pause, then, “Mind if I practice a little more?” Clarus’ amber eyes were dark in the tent. Regis wasn’t sure if it was from the lack of light or what they were doing, but when Clarus reached up and hooked the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward, he didn’t care. Despite the stubble of his beard Clarus’ lips were soft against his own as the kiss began to deepen. They continued like this for a long moment before Regis began to feel the edge of a tongue against his lips and teeth. Granting permission, he opened his mouth just before he heard Weskham’s angry voice from outside the tent.

“…can’t believe you gave that contraband to the prince and his vassal. What is wrong with you?”

“You weren’t having any. I wasn’t gonna drink alone.”

Clarus and Regis broke apart and laid down in their respective bedrolls as the sound of expensive shoes on stone approached the tent. “Cid, I swear, you have been getting on my very last nerve. If they’re sick in the morning, so help me…” Tent unzipped and Weskham stepped inside with the lantern. Clarus held his arm up to shield his eyes. “Sorry to disturb. Are you two alright?”

The shield groaned. “I’ll be better when you get that light out of my face.”

“Apologies.” Weskham doused the light. “How’s His Highness?”

“Sleeping,” Clarus lied. “Don’t worry, I only let him have one shot.”

This seemed to placate the steward. “Good. Just make sure he drinks plenty of water, alright?”

“Fine fine.”

Weskham put the lantern down and kicked his shoes off, setting them aside in the tent. “See that you do. I’m surprised you let them drink that godsawful substance.”

Cid said from outside, “I drink it all the time. Doesn’t bother me none.”

Weskham rolled his eyes. “Well that certainly explains plenty.” He turned to the shield. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. I got a lead on a group of refugees that have hold up in Lestallum from Galahd. We’ll be heading out at first light.

“Kay. G’night.” Clarus rolled over so he was facing away from the steward.

Regis was already facing the canvas of the tent, pretending to be asleep. Thankful that neither Weskham or Clarus could see the flush that still clung to his face, or the fact that his pants were currently two sizes too small.

 

~X~X~X

More to come soon. I think I’m on a roll with these two :p

Comments are always welcomed and appreciated. They feed my black little soul and inspire it to write more porn.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gets a little more NSFW here.  
> An unexpected arrival throws off Clarus and Regis' lesson plan.  
> Another brainstorming session with Goldslactuar led to this and future chapters.

The sun was just cresting over the horizon when Clarus was finishing up his early morning security sweep of the area around their haven. It wasn’t necessarily a dangerous area for wildlife during the day, but with the increased tensions with Niflheim there was no such thing as being too cautious. Especially with the crown prince in tow.

The wind shifted and Clarus started to smell the fresh coffee brewing back at the haven, which meant Weskham was awake and possibly Regis too. The aroma of bacon soon joined the mix and Clarus’ stomach let out a low grumble in anticipation of breakfast.

Despite the over-organization and spats with Cid, Clarus really did appreciate Weskham’s company in their group. Especially when it came to the food. The steward seriously needed to open a restaurant when he retired.

It was probably a good thing that Weskham’s mother-hen nature interrupted them last night, despite the fact that it had taken Clarus forever to go to sleep. What had first started out as a fairly chaste lesson on how to kiss heated up faster than a bomb after a few hits. He adjusted himself in his trousers as he thought back on it, idly wondering if Regis was just learning quickly from the lesson or…

A twig snapped toward his left and Clarus was back on alert mode again in an instant.

Not making any indication he’d heard it, Clarus continued to walk slowly past the shrubs. When he passed there was another rustle of leaves before a form exploded from the hedges. Before Clarus even looked to see what it was he pulled his shield from the armiger and slammed it hard into his attacker. First it deflected a blade before making the sickening crunch noise of metal to flesh and bone.

His attacker fell to the ground hard, blood already flowing freely from his nose as he reached for his weapon that had been knocked aside. Clarus kicked it out of the way before crouching down and pinning the assailant to the dirt with his knee.

Clarus smirked when he realized who it was. “Well what have we here? A lion cub?”

The prodigy and newest Crownsguard member to King Mors, Cor Leonis, tried to dislodge himself from beneath the larger man’s knee, but the weight held. Spitting blood into the dirt he glared up at Clarus. “Get off me, Amicitia.”

Finally, Clarus got up and held out a hand to help him up, but Cor smacked his hand away. Clarus rolled his eyes. “That was a good attack. You might have had me if you weren’t as stealthy as an anak in rut.”

Cor didn’t comment back. Instead he said, “Where’s His Highness? Why aren’t you at his side?”

Clarus grunted. This kid was ten years his junior and was talking to him like he was his superior. _Gods, was I like that once? I hope not._ Clarus thought to himself. “I don’t need to be attached to Reggie’s hip at all times to keep him safe. Besides, he’s at the haven with Cid and Weskham.”

“What if I was a Niff assassin?”

This made Clarus chuckle. “Then you would have been quieter.” He pat Cor on the back. “Come on, let’s go patch you up. I think I broke your nose.”

Silent, for once, Cor spat into the dirt again, picked up his sword, and followed the shield back to the haven.

As expected, Weskham was finishing up breakfast when the two of them approached the glowing stones. Regis looked up from his mug of coffee as he sat at the edge of the fire. He smirked when he realized who Clarus was with. “Find some trouble while you were out?”

Clarus chuckled. “No, it found me.”

Weskham turned from his camp stove. “Goodness, what happened?”

“A lesson in stealth,” said Clarus.

Wiping the blood away from his swollen nose, Cor held his fist to his chest and bowed to Regis. “At your service, Highness.”

Regis put his mug down and stood up. “At ease. Don’t worry about formalities in the field, Leonis. Come here, let’s fix you up. This may sting a bit.” The prince held his hand up to the young soldier’s face and let out the smallest bit of healing magic. There was the slight sound of bone mending, causing Cor to wince, but soon the light dissipated and all that was left of the injury was some light bruising and a ruined bloodied shirt. “Now, care to tell us what my father’s youngest body guard is doing out here in the middle of nowhere? I thought you were with him on the front lines near Accordo?”

“His Majesty sent me. We have word of the Niffs setting up bases again and wanted an extra sword with you.” He taped the Genji blade at his hip and bowed his head. “It’s an honor to serve you, Highness.”  

Clarus rolled his eyes. It wasn’t a secret that Cor was an excellent fighter, despite his lack of stealth, but part of Clarus also suspected that King Mors was getting sick of the lost puppy at his heels. Cor was always so star-struck with royalty, even after serving for a few years.

Weskham tapped the edge of the frying pan with a wooden spoon. “Well, breakfast is ready. Cor, if you could clean yourself up and wake Cid you are welcomed to join us for breakfast.”

Cor wiped the blood from under his nose and gave a light nod to Weskham. “Thank you, Sir.”

Walking over to the stove, Clarus took a thick piece of bacon and chewed on it while he watched the young soldier duck his head into the tent to wake the undoubtedly hungover mechanic. Clarus elbowed the steward lightly. “Looks like you’ll be babysitting one more for the time being. What do you make of it?”

“Hard to say. I’m sure His Majesty had his reasons to send one of his personal Crownsguard this far north. Perhaps there is something more to be concerned about than a few wayward daemons and Niff soldiers.”

Clarus grumbled and ate another slice of bacon. “We’ll see. In the meantime, I think it’s best I keep His Highness on his toes.”

After a quick breakfast, and several attempts to finally rouse Cid, Clarus went over to the camp fire and tapped Regis on the shoulder. “C’mon, lets have a quick training session before it gets too late in the day and hot. The lion cub barely made be break a sweat and I’ve got some extra energy to blow off.”

Regis looked up from his mug with a sly grin Clarus had never seen before. “Oh? And where did all this pent-up energy come from, I wonder.”

Clarus swallowed at the shift in tone. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the others hadn’t heard, but thankfully Weskham was preoccupied getting fluids into Cid and Cor was washing the blood off the front of his shirt.

“So, when’s the next training session?” Regis asked, his words thick with double meaning.

Clarus cleared his throat. “Maybe later today if we can shake the kid, but for now let’s focus on swordsmanship first.” Pulling his great sword from the armiger, Clarus gestured to a clear patch of dirt just beyond the edge of the haven. “After you, _Highness_ ,” he said, mimicking Cor’s adoration laden tone.

Regis chuckled, pulled out his weapon too, and hopped down from the glowing stone.

They sparred with various weapons for a little over an hour as the day grew hotter and more humid. It was still only late spring, but the thick blanket of Cleigne heat was already swooping over them like a hot wyvern breath. It didn’t take long before Regis had stripped down to his black undershirt and Clarus to discard his vest and shirt completely.

Towards the tail end of their session, Regis utilized the recently acquired Sword of the Tall and swung it at Clarus, who dodged the oversized blade an instant before Regis’ balance shifted. Sensing the opportunity, Clarus swung out his foot to the prince’s leg and tripped him, toppling him over onto the dusty ground completely.

“You can’t swing a weapon that size like you do a regular one or it’ll take it with you. Here,” Clarus helped the prince up and stood behind him, adjusting his hands on the large weapon. “You have to choke up on it. It’s not as balanced as most of your other swords…” he gently pulled Regis’ hips back, “…and if you don’t account for that in your stance it’ll be easy to throw you off kilter.”

Regis took the guidance a tad further and leaned back so that Clarus’ chest was against his back, pressing his weight into him. “Like this?” Clarus had to close his eyes and try and focus on the training and _not_ the fact that the prince was subtly grinding his ass into his growingly interested dick.

He cleared his throat again, “Yeah… just like that.”

Regis turned his head so that their lips were an inch apart. From a distance it just looked like Clarus was coaching his prince, when in fact Regis was the one slowly torturing his shield.

The prince chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was going to say something about you knowing how to wield large weapons, but I felt it was lacking tact and withheld it.” He smirked playfully and pulled away just as Weskham stepped to the edge of the haven with a cleaned-up Cor at his side.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day, Gentlemen?” Weskham asked. “If we plan on heading to Cape Caem we should do so before noon. Otherwise we risk being out when the sun goes down.”

“If we must,” Regis called. “But I would like to wash up first before we go.”

Weskham shrugged. “So long as your accompanied.”

“I’ll go with him,” said Cor, already sliding down off the rock.

“No,” Regis said, a tad too forcefully. He cleared his throat as he approached, tapping the young soldier on the shoulder as he did. “No, that’s alright. I’ll have Clarus with me. Besides, I need you to assist Cid and Weskham breaking down camp so that we can depart when we get back. Can you do that for me?”

Cor clenched his jaw, clearly vexed that he wasn’t performing the tasks he’d bet set to do. Still, he gave a light bow. “As you wish, Highness.”

Clarus had an inkling what Regis was up to, and despite the fact that he was almost sure that Mors would have him executed for it, he couldn’t help but let the excitement build within him.

They made their way down to the river and after a precautionary look around for sahagin, they began to strip down their clothes as they had dozens of times before when they cleaned up riverside. This time however, Regis gave him a mischievous look over his shoulder when he asked for use of Clarus’ toiletries kit.

Clarus tossed it to him before wading waist deep in the river. The water was cool, but the heat of the day more than made up for it. It didn’t take long before they’d both washed the dirt and sweat off themselves. After a last rinse Clarus reached over to the rock outcropping where he’d hung his towel. “Wait,” said Regis, wading closer to his shield. Clarus swallowed hard, he'd been expecting this, but still hadn’t come up with a game plan for it. “I was thinking, with Cor here now I probably won’t have much time for lessons. Something tells me he’s going to be attached to my hip for some time. What do you say to a quick session now, while we have a moment to ourselves?”

Clarus couldn’t help but glance down to the prince’s lips and further down to his half-hard member beneath the water. The ego stroke alone was enough to feed the flames from last night, not to mention the fact that the crown prince was asking to kiss him. People wrote novels about this sort of thing. “Are you sure about this, Reggie? Things got a little…heated last time. And we had pants on.”

“Have you ever been with a man, Clarus?” Regis asked suddenly, glancing down and admiring the shields physical reaction to the situation, even though they hadn’t touched yet.

Clarus shook his head. “I have _some_ experience.” He smiled nervously, an odd tick from his teen years he’d never managed to shake. Other than the one male partner he’d had on and off during his early years of training, nobody knew about that side of him. Regis must have seen the smile as encouraging, because he put a hand on Clarus’ tan hip and inched closer.

“Please, Clarus? Would you show me?” There was a blush to Regis’ cheeks that Clarus both saw as nerves and arousal. He opened his mouth to respond, but his prince captured his lips before he could articulate an answer.

After the initial surprise it wasn’t long before they’d picked up where they left off in the tent. Tongues explored the others mouth as the flesh between them hardened despite the cool water. With the absence of clothes and the real possibility that one of their companions came looking for them added a sense of urgency and excitement to the moment.

Regis’ hands slid down his sides, tracing fingers over the muscles of his abs before pausing near his naval. Clarus wanted him to move lower so badly, but felt it was too soon to ask for such a thing. In spite of that the shields hands were doing enough roaming for the two of them, eventually making their way down the prince’s back and lower, pausing when his fingers traced the upper part of his glutes. When he stopped a frustrated whine passed between them as Regis inched upward, tracing their cocks together unintentionally as he did. “Please…Clarus…”

Hearing his name come from his prince in that tone broke something within him. Tossing caution to the wind Clarus reached down and got a good grip on the meaty flesh of his prince’s ass and pulled their bodies together. No doubt leaving slight bruises in the pale skin as Regis let out another sinful moan.

He was going to come if they kept this up, and from the noises his prince was making he was creeping his way there too.

Regis pulled away for a moment to catch his breath and looked up, exposing his neck as he did. Clarus didn’t waste the opportunity and leaned forward, aggressively mouthing Regis’ pulse and throat as the rutting between them became erratic.

“Clarus,” Regis gasped, egging Clarus on. He could feel the winding coil of orgasm building within him before Regis wound his hands in Clarus hair and got a good grip, pulling him away sharply. “Clarus,” he said again, more alarmed than aroused.

“Ouch, careful wi-” his words caught in his throat as the Niflheim airship passed over them almost silently and began to slow, lowering to the ground to land not far beyond the haven.

 

 


End file.
